The Fragile Heart’s Guide To Surviving the Holidays | Cup of Jo

Is there a Finnish or Japanese word for existential holiday dread? There should be. I suppose the closest thing would be to borrow a term of Ebenezer Scrooge: ba hum bug? That’s certainly how I’m feeling as this long year barrels to a close. But admitting it publicly sure feels like a sordid, illicit confession since lack of festive cheer is the ultimate holiday trespass.

But I have good reason for my seasonal grinchiness.

A few weeks ago, my partner of four years announced he needed some time and space and couldn’t do “this” at the moment — this being our relationship. Getting your heart broken a few weeks before Thanksgiving sounds like the opening to a Hallmark holiday rom-com. Yet, somehow, I don’t think l’m going to collide with that hot guy from Bridgerton in the next couple weeks while we’re both in line to get eggnog at the Bryant Park holiday market and he’s going to redeem my faith in love. For one, I hate eggnog. But alas.

This devastating development also happened to come right on the heels of the one-year anniversary of my beloved father’s passing. I was already spent from a full year of trying to find my emotional footing after that tremendous loss, which left my family fractured in complicated — and lasting — ways. My therapist told me that September/October is one of the worst times of year to lose a loved one. Not that there’s any good time, but when you lose someone in the fall, you slam straight into the holidays with a raw heart, having to navigate traditions and create new rituals in the wake of absence. There’s literally an empty seat at the table. She was right — the holidays last year were brutal and passed in a blur of me crying into my partner’s shirt at all hours. I don’t remember much of that period beyond a trip to Home Depot to buy a deceptively heavy tree and watching Die Hard for the first time.

Adding to this current season of grief and heartbreak? A heavy pour of career insecurity and simmering despair at the general state of the world, which I wrote about here, and I’ve been truly laid low, as my grandmother would say (also dead, also missed). As a generally upbeat person by nature, this is unfamiliar territory. But I take solace in that I’m not alone.

Because I know I’m not the only one facing the challenges that this time of year makes even harder. Perhaps it’s your first holiday after your divorce and you’ll be away from your kids, or you’ve been laid off in this terrible economy; perhaps anticipatory grief won’t let you forget that this will be your last Hanukkah with a beloved relative. Maybe you’re facing a scary health challenge. There are as many ways to be emotionally rocked this holiday season as there are on needles on a Christmas tree.

I’m not a self-help author or a therapist, I’m just a girl who can admit she’s struggling. But I’ve tried to come up with strategies to get through December. In case it helps you, too, here’s my 2025 holiday survival plan:

Hunker down. You don’t have to go to that holiday party or cookie exchange. Right now, trust that you are your own best company, and that quiet nights at home, even when you can hear the revelry outside, are what you need to regroup. It can be incredibly draining to “put on a cheerful face,” and you need to conserve that energy for healing. That said, if you think there’s a chance being with people will elevate your mood, it may be worth putting on lipstick and tights and getting yourself out the door, but only out of true desire, not obligation.

Stay off Instagram. I deleted Instagram weeks ago, and it’s the healthiest decision I’ve made for myself since I started drinking 2L of water a day. Social media will still be there in 2026, for better or worse.

Go easy on gratitude. I’m all for gratitude, in general, but sometimes it’s just another way to subject ourselves to pressure. Allow yourself to indulge in a little self-pity. You have enough to contend with at the moment without beating yourself up for not being grateful enough.

Indulge. I, for one, have been eating a lot of french fries. Sure, maybe that’s not the healthiest thing in the world, but it brings me joy. This is not a time to deny yourself simple pleasures, be that going to the movies (I plan to see Hamnet and bawl my brains out) or popping into a nail salon for a $10 chair massage.

Live in the truth of your mental state. In western culture, we have an insidious attachment to positivity, mistaking bravado for bravery and sadness for weakness. Here’s your reminder that it’s the exact opposite (plus, a great book on the subject). Acknowledging your “negative” emotions helps other people to feel less alone. After all, the loneliest part of feeling down is when you think everyone else is giddily sipping cranberry spritzes, and you, alone, are the only sad person on earth.

Let people take care of you. It’s the season of giving — but it’s also good to let yourself be taken care of. I’ve been nourished by messages, flowers, and food from my friends, and I’m letting myself embrace it without feeling guilty. Trust that the people showing you love are as enriched by it as you are. And it very much captures the spirit of the season.

Give back. I spent Thanksgiving working with a wonderful organization, serving meals in Harlem. It was a meaningful distraction from the holiday-sized hole my absent partner left. Doing good made me feel good about myself, too.

It will be January before we know it, and we — the fragile and broken-hearted — will have survived a hard season. And for those of you feeling on top of the world and embracing the holidays season with zest and matching pajamas, I love that for you. Those of us who aren’t feeling it this year will hope to join you in good cheer in 2026.

In the meantime, let’s find some solace and community in the comments – if you want to unburden yourself of a struggle, it’s a safe space. If you want to share a tool for getting through a tough time, we’re all ears. Wishing you a holiday season of peace and renewal.

Christine Pride is a writer, book editor and content consultant who lives in Harlem, New York. Read all her Race Matters columns here.

P.S. The trick to enjoying big family gatherings, and what’s your escape valve during the holidays?

(Photo by Laura Beth Snipes/Unsplash.)